


Physical Therapy

by kat_fanfic



Category: Blackhawks - Fandom, Chicago Blackhawks - Fandom, Hockey RPF
Genre: (Kind of) First Time, Humour, M/M, PWP, Porn, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-23 00:01:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/615845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kat_fanfic/pseuds/kat_fanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobody had ever accused Patrick Kane of being one to catch on quick, so of course it started with sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Physical Therapy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TikaW](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TikaW/gifts).



> Written for and because of TikaW, my dearest roommate and fellow puck bunny! xD Fortunately, she allowed me to share this here. Merry christmas, hon!

In retrospect, Patrick could have caught on a lot sooner. It wasn’t like the hints hadn’t been there, after all. But, nobody had ever accused Patrick Kane of being the one to catch on quick, so of course it started with sex.

Patrick grinned to himself as he ran his hands over smooth skin, more teasing than stimulating for the moment. Underneath him, pliant in a way he never was anywhere else, Jonny trembled. He was obviously trying to keep himself from moving, to not give Patrick the satisfaction of leaning into his touch.

“It’s okay, Tazer-baby,” he murmured, shit-eating grin still plastered all over his face. “You just let me take care of you, hm?”

“Now that’s a scary thought.” Jonny’s voice was muffled by the pillow he’d buried his head in, but Patrick could hear the weird mix of anticipation and awkwardness that always marked the beginning of their sessions. “And don’t call me ‘baby’!”

Tightening his thighs around Jonny’s hips in warning, Patrick pressed the heel of his hands into Jonny’s neck, right where the muscles were bunched up and rock-hard. Loosing a drawn-out moan, Jonny sank deeper into the mattress, all thoughts of protest forgotten. 

He was a lot like a big cat, Patrick mused idly as he let his hands wander over the broad expanse of smooth skin. The similarities were uncanny. Of course, there was the way Jonny moved, feline both in his sleek grace and the utter danger he exuded on the ice. And just like the black and white Tabby that’d lived across the street when Patrick was a child, Tazer was so used to getting his own way that even the idea of opposition had him huffing in disbelief. 

But the most startling similarity was the way Jonny would always lean into a gentle touch, almost like he couldn’t help himself. If there was any way he could let go of the stick in his ass for even a second, Patrick was sure that Jonny would even purr when touched in the right way. And boy, did he know how to touch his best friend. 

As his teasing touch wandered ever lower, Patrick couldn’t help but smirk a little. If only the others could see Jonny now, he thought idly.

They’d never believe it if he told them. Oh no, they’d have to see with their own eyes how their Captain was able to surrender to the sheer alpha maleness that was Patrick Kane. And even then, they’d probably believe it to be a joke. And _then_ they’d check Tazer for drugs.

Patrick had no illusions about how most of his team saw him. Honestly, he didn’t do much to change their opinion of him, the one where he was one of the best Hockey players they’d ever seen and the biggest douche-bag ever to walk the earth. But the consensus among the team was that he was _their_ douche, so he wasn’t real bothered by the common misconception. 

So, yeah, he could be a real ass, especially if there was alcohol involved. But that was just to cover up the awkwardness that made him act stupid and say things that were even stupider when put on the spot in public. 

Few of his teammates had seen through the involuntary frat boy guise, though he couldn’t really fault them. After all, it wasn’t even in his best interest to make them see the light of day. He liked how it was now, how any and all stupid actions on his part were either laughed away, covered up or mocked into submission. _He_ almost never had to be on his best behavior for cameras and/or fans. Everyone just about accepted his antics as par of the course.

Still, it was nice to have some people in his corner that didn’t think he was a total nut-job. Jonny was one of them, of course, as was Sharpie. And for some reason, Seabs was also amongst the selected few that hadn’t automatically marked him down as mentally challenged after the twenty cents incident. 

Annoyingly, he was also the only one to call him on his not-so-secret crush.

“You know, you could just tell him that you’re loco for him,” Seabs had said one time after training, a propos of nothing. 

“What the-? What?” Patrick had sputtered, caught totally off guard. “I’m not… huh?”

Seabs had just grinned at him, looking even more like a Saint Bernhard than usual. 

“You can’t just _say_ something like that,” he had finally whined, when it became clear that Seabs wasn’t to be deterred by his playing dumb. 

“Sure can,” Seabs had mumbled around a mouthful of Energy bar. “’Specially when you’re too dumb-headed to do something about it on your own.”

Patrick had pouted at that. “At least I get some booty,” he’d sulked, again talking before thinking it through. “That’s more than can be said for you and your own little love-drama!”

Immediately after the words had left his lips, he’d wanted to slap himself. The wedding had been still fresh in their minds then, the way Seabs had been unable to meet his partner’s eyes for weeks afterwards weighing their friendship down both on and off the ice. 

Seabs had shook his head, looking way too pale all of a sudden, dropped the rest of the Energy bar and had left without another word to Patrick. 

It was the first time in a long while that Patrick had apologized to someone and truly meant it. Fortunately for him, Seabs was the forgiving kind, especially when he spent an entire evening listening to him sing Duncs’ praise without complaint. 

“The difference is,” Seabs had slurred after his third rum n’ coke, “that Tazer’s obviously in love with you too. You two are like Mulder and Scully, always dancing around one another, even though everyone can see that you’re fucking soul mates or something.”

He’d looked so desolate then, so heartbroken, that it was all Patrick could do not to call Duncs and go all Mama Bear on him. As it was, he’d wrapped himself around Seabs – not an easy feat considering how much of him there was to be wrapped around – and made vague shushing noises that he hoped were helping in some way.

They fell asleep like that, and when he’d woken up, Seabs was gone. On his nightstand, Patrick had found a simple note.

_Tell him_ it said. 

Patrick had stared at it for a long time, acknowledging the truth of the advice and trying not to panic. Naturally, as it always was with Seabs, the _or I will_ was implied.

Which brought him right to this very moment, sitting on Jonny’s very naked back, leaning on Jonny’s very naked – and admittedly very perky – ass, touching his best friend in their special kinky-friends-with-benefits way, all the while trying to come up with a means to casually confess his undying love that wasn’t shouting it out during orgasm.

Coming up empty, he decided to go with the flow for the moment. As he looked down at his line-mate his cock very much agreed with that notion, perking up as it made contact with Jonny’s smooth back.

Jonny quivered in reaction, a soft sound making it past his lips. Patrick grinned. It was still kind of a rush to see Jonny like this, all passive and yielding, even if he did fight getting there every step of the way. It’d be a sight to see, something that’d make thousands of people drool, he was sure. That was, if Patrick would actually permit anyone to see Jonny as he was now. 

“You’re gloating.” Jonny sounded slightly disgruntled, even as the lassitude in his body suggested that he was well on his way to the frame of mind where he’d abandon all conscious thought and gave himself over to sensation.

It was a powerful thing, to have Mr. Control Issues let go like this, but Patrick wasn’t above to admitting that having that kind of power was also scary as fuck. “I’m not, just enjoying the moment,” he murmured, concentrating on the gentle pressure of his hands to distract himself.

Leaning back a little, he slowly lifted his palms up until just his fingers were sliding down Jonny’s back. When he finally reached the gentle swell of his ass, only his index finger slid between the twin globes. 

The contact was minimal, but Jonny reacted like he’d been tasered. Which was only appropriate, Patrick thought, appreciating the pun for the gift it was. The sound Jonny made when his fingertip brushed over his puckered opening went right to Patrick’s cock and he couldn’t quite hold back the desperate moan.

Grabbing the lube he’d conveniently placed right next to him, he slicked his fingers, teasing the tips round the dark hole, teasing both of them. When he pressed his index finger past the strong muscles, Jonny gasped, trying right away to direct him to where he wanted the pressure. Smiling indulgently, Patrick nonetheless pulled back, pressing back in with two fingers right away. 

Jonny groaned, but his body opened up beautifully, even as Patrick spread them and wriggled them around.

“I want you on your back,” he rasped finally, slipping his fingers free with a soft ‘pop’. Jonny let out a long, drawn-out moan, but was already scrambling to turn over, almost throwing Patrick off in the process.

“Hey,” Patrick murmured even as he moved up to accommodate the motion. “Calm down, babe. We’ve got plenty of time.”

Jonny didn’t appear to hear him. His muscles bunched as he moved around, eager and more than a little turned on. 

Patrick stared. Jonny was almost glowing, his smooth pale skin giving him an almost ethereal quality. His eyes were heavy-lidded and his lips slightly opened, pink tongue flicking out every now and again to dampen them.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Patrick murmured as he lowered himself down between Jonnys legs, their cocks brushing, almost by accident. He groaned and slowly, reverently, he placed his hand on Jonny's chest and drew it downward. He splayed his fingers to touch as much silky skin as possible while his other hand slid up Jonny's thigh, pushing at the knee to urge his trembling legs to open.

Strong, creamy thighs opened in response and Jonny arched his chest, groaning softly as Patrick’s fingers danced over his soft skin.

"Patrick," he moaned, obviously wanting to beg Patrick to do so many things to him, but his tongue seemed frozen as he just stared up at him with wide chocolate eyes. His broad chest heaved as he sucked in one trembling breath after another and Patrick shuddered in barely controlled lust.

Jonny's trembling voice calling out to him with so much pure need spurred him on like nothing else and so he slid his hand up the inside of one smooth thigh, looking down at his best friend offering himself up like it was the most natural thing in the world. Spread open, completely exposed and absolutely vulnerable, he was almost more than Patrick thought he could handle.

As he stared down at his naked sometime-lover, he shuddered as he suddenly realized that at this very moment, Jonny was a slave to his every whim. He had made him like this, had urged him to let go of his iron control, if only for those few precious moments they had together.

Bending over, Patrick hovered over Jonny, pressing small kisses all over his chest and face, almost frantic in his need to show his best friend that it was okay, that he was in safe hands, that it was okay to trust Patrick Kane with everything he had. 

Jonny responded almost blindly to Patrick’s ministrations, catching his mouth in a deep kiss that was only broken by the strangled “please,” sneaking past their tangled lips. Patrick’s hand had found its way back between Jonny’s legs almost on its own, fingertips slipping into the tight heat easily.

“You ready, huh?” he whispered. “You gonna take me inside now, huh, Jonny?”

With a low and sensual whimper, Jonny lifted his hips, wordlessly urging him to continue moving his hand. “Yeah,” he moaned, one hand reaching down to touch his weeping cock, desperate for relief.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Patrick admonished, grabbing the wandering hand and pressing it into the mattress. He didn’t hold him down hard, barely used any force. Still, the hand gently encircling his wrist had Jonny stopping cold abruptly. His chocolate eyes widened and as Patrick watched with fascination, a blush spread from his chest upwards to tint his cheeks rosy. 

Patrick had never seen his best friend look so open, vulnerability in the clean lines of his throat as he surrendered completely. 

“Pat…” 

It was barely audible, a soft aspiration that Patrick only heard because the room was so quiet and he’d stopped breathing to not be distracted from the sheer sensuality his best friend exuded. Gaze zeroing in on the soft-looking lips, shining from where Jonny’d licked them once again, Patrick almost lost all control. It was always hard – pun intended – to do it like this. If he could have it his way, they’d be all over each other already, sucking, licking, and making each other make sounds that’d even get Burish to blush.

Biting back a desperate moan as his cock twitched at the thought, he forced himself to calm down. It was so much better if he managed to draw it out, he knew. Pulling back completely, he sat back on his haunches. His cock bopped up against his stomach, leaving a smear of pre-come there.

He was way past ready, and from the looks of it, so was Jonny. Putting the condom on took about three more tries than it usually did, what with Jonny uttering little mewls of need, his beautiful cock twitching and continuously leaking. 

When Patrick finally pressed home, there was almost no resistance. He slid into Jonny’s body like he was meant to be there, as if he was a part that had always been missing. Hesitating after bottoming out, Patrick let Jonny get used to the feeling, knowing that it always felt a little strange at first, no matter how much you wanted it. 

When Jonny growled, a sound that came from deep in his throat, Patrick began to move, but evidently not quick enough for his bossy lover. A shiver raced down Patrick’s spine as Jonny undulated underneath him, moving his hips back and forth in an effort to get more friction. On every upward motion, he drove Patrick’s cock deeper into himself, working it from the bottom.

Patrick grinned, even as his eyes rolled back into his head. “Oh my god,” he hissed, tight heat robbing him of all thought. He lost all conscious thought then, his whole being reduced to the ancient rhythm of in and out, of glorious friction, always in search for that elusive feeling of total bliss.

They were both so worked up, none of them could last long. Patrick felt the beginnings of it trickle down his spine, his breath quickening as his balls tightened, drawing up in preparation. 

“God, I love you, _fuck_ I love you, Jonny, I—“ Words dying in his throat, Patrick gave a full-body shudder as his hips snapped forward once, twice, orgasm slamming though him in one hard wave. He panted with the orgasmic pulses, spilling deep into Jonny’s body. 

Despite having just lost more than a fair share of his brain, he still had the presence of mind to reach around and grab Jonny’s cock in a hard grip. It only took two long pulls for Jonny to let out a few staccato breaths and a low whine, spilling hotly all over Patrick’s hand. Patrick hissed as Jonny’s body clamped down on him, the feeling almost too much so soon after orgasm.

Coming down from the orgasmic bliss, more than a little pleased with himself, Patrick suddenly noticed that Jonny was shaking beneath him. Looking down at Jonny’s heaving back, Patrick instantly panicked. His first thought was: _Shit, I told him during orgasm!_ His second thought went more along the lines of _He hasn’t responded, OMG, he hasn’t responded!_ His third to sixth thoughts were a jumbled mess of frantic, half-formulated excuses and apologies; so it was only reasonable that it took him a moment to realize that the quiver of Jonny’s shoulders wasn’t actually a negative reaction to his confession. 

“Fuck,” he murmured, pulling back a little. “Are you _laughing_ at me?”

Turning his head around, Jonny looked at him and let out a peal of laughter. “Of course I’m laughing, Patrick! You’ve been working up to this big confession all night and you tell me during sex? Real classy, Kane, you’re smooth alright.”

“Shut up,” Patrick murmured, stung. “Way to ruin the moment, asshole. I’m being all sensitive and shit, and this is what I get for it? Mocking?”

Jonny snorted. “If this is you being sensitive, I don’t want to see you when you don’t give a damn.” To prove his point, he wiggled his ass a little, almost dislodging Patrick’s softening cock, condom and all.

“Argh, stop that,” Patrick said, hastily taking care of business, wrinkling his nose at it. 

When he finally got to climb under the covers Jonny had pulled up, he found that the other man had rolled away from the wet spot, leaving barely any room in the bed. Suddenly unsure and feeling more than a little vulnerable, Patrick hesitated, hovering half on, half off the bed.

“You’re a dumb-nut,” Jonny said, affectionately, without even opening his eyes. “Of course I love you too.”

Patrick stared. 

Opening one eye, Jonny smiled. “Do you really think I would have let anyone see me like this,” he gestured vaguely towards himself, “that I don’t have feelings for?”

So, yes, in retrospect he _could_ have caught on a lot sooner. But where was the fun in that? 

Reassured and more than a little relieved, he shoved his way into the bed. He arranged Jonny to his liking and reveled in the feeling that everything about his best friend slash line-mate slash lover slash significant other was his for the taking now.

“Hey,” he murmured a little later, voicing a stray thought that kept him from drifting off. “Think we can get Duncs to pull his head outta his ass and finally put Seabsie out of his misery?”

Giving a soft snort, Jonny murmured: “Already working on it, Pat.”

Indignant, Patrick frowned. “And what makes you thing that _you’re_ the right one for this job?”

Dark chocolate eyes flickered up to meet his inquisitive stare. “I got you to spill the beans now, didn’t I?”

“You got me to _what_?!”


End file.
